


When We First Met

by surrealer



Series: A Dusty Old Quiver [1]
Category: RWBY
Genre: After Summer, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Backstory, Drunk Qrow Branwen, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Language, OC has trust issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Series, Qrow Branwen Needs a Hug, QrowArt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealer/pseuds/surrealer
Summary: Before becoming great friends, and the kick-ass aunt/uncle duo that their nieces love, Qrow Branwen and Artemis Rand were merelystrangers.An anthology-like series of stories describing the long journey from grudging allies, to best friends and partners (and maybe something more?).pre-RWBY.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen & Raven Branwen, Qrow Branwen & Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen & Taiyang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen/Original Character(s), Qrow Branwen/Original Female Character(s), Qrow Branwen/Summer Rose (unrequited), Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Series: A Dusty Old Quiver [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142360
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	1. introduction

PART I: WHEN WE FIRST MET

> _**"Before kind smiles and caring words, before comfortable silences and mirthful banter... We were cold and distant, caught up in grief and what we perceived as rightful anger."** _

Before becoming great friends, and the kick-ass aunt/uncle duo that their nieces love, Qrow Branwen and Artemis Rand were merely strangers. They'd heard each other's names on the wind, on the tip of the tongues of excitable first-years, but through a series of strange circumstances, neither had actually met the other.

Until Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon offers Ms. Rand a position in his brotherhood — one she very eagerly accepts, if only to leave behind Atlas and all of the dreary memories it held. But she's more than a little pissed off that it came with a capricious drunk who made it very clear that he did not want to be anywhere near her. 

Still reeling from a dozen different terrible things, she's not particularly eager to have to deal with his abrasiveness, either. She's never one to back down from a fight for something as negligible as _hurt feelings_ , however. 

The game plan was pretty simple — a) Make Qrow get over himself and work with her. b) Get Qrow to ask for an out. Or the more distasteful option, c) convince Ozpin he's not a good fit and get him kicked off to another _babysitter_. 

Who said Atlesian political ploys wouldn't come in handy in other kingdoms?


	2. 1| An Archer Named Artemis, and An Asshat Named Qrow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis accepts a job offer from the Headmaster of Beacon Academy — it would've been great if she wasn't immediately sent off on a milk run with a random drunk guy with an attitude.

She couldn't help but fiddle with the hem of her jacket nervously as the elevator ascends Beacon Tower, absentmindedly smoothing out the dark green leather. She's only been in Vale a couple of times with her family, glimpsing the school in the distant skyline. She couldn't help but fiddle with the hem of her jacket nervously as the elevator ascends Beacon Tower. She's only been in Vale a couple of times with her family, glimpsing the building in the distant skyline. Even after years of airship travels that come with living in Atlas, it still made her breath catch. Her team was supposed to have been here for the Vytal Tournament but...

Well, she didn't want to think about what happened then. Artemis didn't think she'd be coming back here any time soon, let alone for a long-term job.

Her heart beats rapidly against her chest, a manic rhythm that betrays her nerves however much she tries to at least _look_ calm. One look at her reflection in the shiny metal of the button panel betrays her - from the shiftiness of her jade eyes, to the blonde strands that had escaped her high ponytail after the fight with the Deathstalker. 

_Get yourself together. Whatever happened, you're still Artemis goddamn Rand — Ozpin or no, you can and will be an amazing Huntress._

What might seem arrogant to another, was simply fact to her. She had the best combat scores in Atlas, second only to her childhood friend James (though she decimated him academically) and two years of real world experience that rivaled most Huntsmen under thirty.

 _This_ is what she spent her entire life toiling after. This is what she gave up numerous friend outings, and relationships, and her emotional stability for.

She squares her shoulders, and raises her chin, exhaling deeply. The elevator dings pleasantly, and the doors slide open. Artemis strides inside, locking her wrists behind her back. 

The Headmaster looks up from his scroll, a genial smile on his face as he rises to his feet. His trademark silver hair and shaded spectacles glint in the moonlight from the wall-length windows behind him.

"Ms. Rand," He says, rounding his desk to shake her hand. "It's wonderful to see you again. How were your travels? No issues, I hope?" She fights a smirk.

"A few Grimm in the forest, but I handled it. Thank you for your invitation, Headmaster." He gestures for her to take a seat, returning to his own. Once they're both settled, he steeples his fingers and gazes at her.

"Artemis, while I'm glad to have you here, I do have to ask... Are you sure you're ready to get back out there?" Her smile drops, if only a bit. That was a question she was hoping to avoid — after all, _ready_ and _willing_ were two different things, weren't they?

"Absolutely, sir. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." She says, like a liar. If Ozpin notices, he doesn't say anything. He hums, leaning back in his chair as he types something into his scroll. Then he turns his attention back to her and flashes her a kind smile.

"In that case... Welcome to Beacon Academy, Artemis. I think we'll do great things together." She grins, expecting more of an interrogation... But they always say " _Don't look into the mouth of a gift horse unless you wanna get bit."_ ...Or something like that. Who cares?

She's about to thank him when the elevator dings again, and someone barrels inside. She whips her head around, frowning when she spots the tall, spiky dark-haired man in grey and a red cape. He's _obviously_ drunk, stumbling his way into the office.

"D'you want me to remove him, boss?" She asks, throwing Oz a questioning look over her shoulder. He just shakes his head, sighing in exasperation.

"I'm afraid not, Artemis. This is Qrow Branwen, a former student of mine." With a quirked eyebrow, she looks him over — he's lithely built, a little taller than she is. Despite having a greatsword strapped to his back, he stands at his full height as he spots her, a sneer pulling at his lips.

 _Shame_. His vermillion eyes would be pretty if they weren't filled with derision. Stubble litters his defined jawline, and dark circles ring his eyes, a stark contrast against his alabaster skin.

"Who's this s'pposed t'be?" He slurs, lazily pointing a finger at her.

"This is Artemis Rand." Ozpin explains, with the patience of someone who's had to do this before, _multiple times_. "She's the reason I called you here." 

Qrow isn't the only one who looks at Ozpin questioningly. Artemis shifts, letting her arm fall from the backrest of her chair, where she'd propped it up to face Qrow.

"I don't understand, Professor." She says, though she's starting to. Why else would he call this Qrow guy at night, the second she accepts his job offer? She faintly hears him mutter "Oh no...", but she ignores him, fixing Ozpin with an expectant look.

"I have a mission that I think you would be aptly suited for." Slowly, Qrow and Artemis exchange mildly confused looks before turning back to Ozpin and reluctantly pointing to themselves.

"Both of you." The headmaster clarifies. "I expect that departing tomorrow evening isn't difficult for either of you?"

Artemis sputters, blanking at finding the clever quip that would get her this mission to do solo. She flicks her eyes over to Qrow, who's in a similar state of shock, and sighs, shaking her head.

"No problem, sir."

"Good. I'll send the details to your scrolls. You're dismissed for the night, Ms. Rand. Glynda is downstairs, and will escort you to your quarters. Get some rest." She nods dumbly, eyeing Qrow hesitantly before heading to the elevator.

As the doors close on the sight of Qrow, snarling something unintelligible at the headmaster, insecurities begin to swim in her head.

Does Ozpin think she needs a babysitter? Especially one in the form of a guy that shows up to his boss's office wasted? That was just plain rude. Or... Wait, was she supposed to be his babysitter? In which case, that angered her for a completely different reason-

Or, the more likely reason, foreign Huntsmen were paired with a local counterpart to make it easier to navigate new territory — and she was just overthinking, letting anxiety and melodrama override her logic. Again.

Artemis sighs, running a hand over her face. She'd feel better after a good night's rest. Her comfy goal of her bed was in sight... All she'd have to do was bear the critical gaze of Glynda Goodwitch to get to it.

She snorts. That's not how she expected her bravery to be challenged, but it _is_ effective.


	3. 2| Weapon Maintenance and a Gentleman Caller

Artemis huffs as she trudges up the path to the village of Hanai, shifting the strap of her weapon case further onto her shoulder. She raises the hand that isn't occupied with her carry-on to wipe her forehead.

_Stupid bus, stupid driver, stupid really freaking warm Sanus-_

In his defense, he did get his company to agree to put up the passengers in a decent inn for the night, as the bus would only be ready by tomorrow morning at the earliest.

In _her_ defense, he was supposed to know about a faulty engine part.

But whatever transpired, she was the only one who had opted to walk to the next village over and catch a bus from there (and had managed to shock the nice man to the point where he swore to deliver her other luggage himself). After all, it's hardly Huntress-like to delay an interview for a vehicle breakdown.

She's still sticky with sweat by the time she gets within a kilometre of Hanai, her skin flushed terribly, and her muscles sore from the exertion. She knew Atlas was much, much colder than other kingdoms (even the southernmost cities like Giraud) but holy Oum, this was insane!

Her suit was designed with biting cold in mind — Honeycomb structures that insulate against extreme cold without increasing the suit's weight, a fur lined hood, knee high combat boots with extra grip. She had to strip off her jacket five minutes into the walk — definitely have to redesign the thing for this weather. 

But a silver lining was that the deep green colour of the suit would help as camouflage in the lush forests of Vale.

Her whining is interrupted by screams from further up the road ( _how inconsiderate_ ) and she sprints to it, drawing her longbow.

There's a group of people, who were herb picking, by the looks of their baskets. The fallen _Ayota_ roots were trampled underfoot as they scrambled away from the Deathstalker, crying for help.

Artemis sighs. Oh well, she could always use more practice.

The gigantic scorpion-like creature bears down on the group, snarling when it suddenly shrieks and rears back. Her arrow struck one of its eyes, dead-center.

The thing turns to her, tail moving menacingly. Artemis merely smirks, and cocks another arrow, this one with a special Dust cartridge built into it. It strikes against the stinger in an explosion of ice, the dead weight sinking the tail instantly.

She moves quick, taking advantage of the Deathstalker's momentary weakness and advances towards its head, twirling her bow into a javelin.

Narrowly dodging its pincers, she forms a small domed shield to use as a launching pad, backflipping onto its head.

It bucks wildly, trying to get her off, but she firmly plants her feet on its spine, keeping her balance. She raises the javelin above her head and brings it down in the middle of its skull, in one swift but powerful move.

She doesn't relax until it goes completely still. A pretty simple battle, but still — all she wanted was a cool drink and maybe some sugary sweets, not a fight.

"Excuse me?" A willowy voice sounds from somewhere to the right, one of the boys. "A-are you a huntress?" She flashes him a snarky smile and flicks some blonde strands out of her face.

"What gave it away?"

* * *

Artemis wipes her weapon down, over the length of the titanium shaft (painted green to match her colors), paying special attention to the golden grooves and the spearhead. She'd be damned if there was any Deathstalker cerebral goo left, she thought as a disgusted shiver ran down her back.

Once she's sure it's clean, she twirls it in her hand, testing out the balance and the grip before transforming it back.

Hawkeye was a Samick Takedown Recurve Bow — or at least those were the blueprints she used when she crafted it. With twice the power and efficiency of a standard longbow, he could store and deliver more energy than anything else on the market. It had a golden grip and green limbs, which was the only similarity between the bow form and the spear form.

She sets Hawkeye in the weapon case, content with her weapon's maintenance. The satisfying click echoes through the room, and she places the case on the desk underneath the large window. Moonlight streams in, and she watches the broken orb with a soft wonderment.

The archer flicks her gaze over to the bed in the middle of the room when she realises that every morning, when the sun rose... It'll be shining _right on her face._

She groans, and pitches forward to slump onto the case. Maybe getting an off-campus apartment would be worth the hour long trip to and from Vale every day.

Her dramatics is interrupted by a knock on the door, and she straightens, pulling at her tank top. She momentarily wonders whether she should pull on her jacket — but it's all the way on the other side of the room, draped over the chair next to the bathroom.

 _Screw it_ , she thinks as she strides to the door, heeled boots clicking on the hardwood floors.

"Mr. Branwen," Artemis tries to sound cordial, not give away her surprise. "I wasn't expecting you tonight. How can I help you?"

"Well, first you can drop the Mister." Qrow drawls, hooded vermillion eyes dragging over her figure. "And we'll leave at sunrise tomorrow, so be ready."

The archer frowns, and calls for him when he moves to leave.

"Sunrise? Isn't that a little early?" He turns, flashing her a smirk.

"Yeah, but we'll have to be if we want to make it to Kaldor on time for the weapons dealers." She tilts her head, trying to clamp down her frustration at the condescending tone he uses.

"Which we will be even if we leave at 10. Kaldor is a _four-hour flight_. The deal is at 7 PM. We'll have plenty of time to set up and-" He cuts her off with a snort that makes her cheeks burn with indignation.

"We're not going by air transport, we're taking a train." It's her turn to snort, sending him a disbelieving look.

"The Kaldor Express would take twice that long. Why would we do that?"

"Because Merigold has people in airports, looking out for Huntsmen and Huntresses the day before a hand-off. Guess he thinks we're too good to slum it." He informs her, taking a sip from his flask, and she grasps for excuses, before exhaling deeply and nodding.

"Then that seems like the best way to go. I'm sorry for second-guessing you." Qrow hums, eyes searching her face. He gives up when he doesn't find what he's looking for, and nods back.

"Don't worry about it. Be on time." He's walking away before she can assure him she will be.

She closes the door, and slumps against it with a sigh. This wasn't Atlas. She couldn't just throw her weight around — not yet, at least. She needed to learn, to understand how things worked in Vale.

Perhaps Qrow wasn't as incompetent as she thought he was, either. After all, if he knew about Merigold, then he's obviously been gathering information, and he's been doing it well if he hasn't gotten caught yet. She runs a hand over her face, and shoves off the door.

First, sleep. Then, she can worry about Qrow.

* * *

As agreed, she's at the entrance of the school by the time the sun peeks out over the trees... But he's not.

She's perched herself on the upright vertical case, tapping her foot on the ground with the patience of a cobra, ready to strike.

"This seems promising." The calming voice of Ozpin sounds behind her and she shoots up, only to sink back down when he gestures for her to relax. He has a warm beverage in his cup: coffee or something. "I see Qrow isn't here yet."

"Well, it's only been twenty minutes." She reasoned, sending him a tight-lipped smile. Ozpin returns the gesture, an amused edge to it.

"Well, it'll give us a chance to talk." The headmaster seems to ruminate over what he wishes to say next, drawing Artemis' full attention.

"Qrow has been through _tremendous_ loss recently... Much like you. But I'm afraid he's not handling it as well." Artemis remains quiet — she doesn't really know how to respond to that. Firstly, she wasn't handling it all that well herself but she couldn't tell _him_ that. Secondly, she doesn't think it's good to have two potentially off-balance Huntsmen in the field together, but she won't say that either.

"What I mean to say is, you might have to offer certain considerations. I can assure you, he's more than capable of field duty — but his... _quirks_ might be bothersome." She raises her gaze to his, quirking an eyebrow.

"Is that an order, sir?" Ozpin shakes his head resolutely.

"No... It's a heads-up. It's _purely_ in your hands, how you handle interpersonal matters — all I can do is offer suggestions." Artemis looks down to her folded hands, a softer, more somber smile on her lips this time... It doesn't reach her eyes, but he can't doubt that it's genuine.

"I'll do my best to accommodate him, sir."

"Thank you, Artemis. And by the way-" She looks back up to see him smirk. "Call me Ozpin."

"Will do." The moment is interrupted by someone shuffling towards them, and she turns to see Qrow approach the two, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Great, you're here. Let's go." He walks off without another word. Artemis inclines her head at Ozpin in farewell, and follows him, a growing frown on her features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, yes I did name Artemis' primary weapon after a superhero! 
> 
> Honestly, after a lot of thinking, all of the names either fell flat or were a bit on the nose, so bear with me. (And also, I really like Clint, so... Oops?) 
> 
> As for Qrow and Artemis, I got you with that late night switcheroo, didn't I? Also, shout out to Brynn_Westwood for the kind comment! It spurred me to get this chapter out this week, instead of next like I was planning.
> 
> Leave a kudos, or a ❤️ in the comments if you wanted to leave more than one :D


End file.
